


Wait With Me

by Timeskipped



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, Minor Furuichi Sakyou/Tachibana Izumi, no scandalous hand holding here no sir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25769992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timeskipped/pseuds/Timeskipped
Summary: The second thing Azami learns about relationships is that they’rehard.He stares at Kumon’s hand as they sit beside each other, and lets their fingers get closer until their pinkies are touching, and it seeps into him like snow through a too-thin jacket, and it’s both too much and not enough at the same time.
Relationships: Hyoudou Kumon/Izumida Azami
Comments: 18
Kudos: 118





	Wait With Me

The first thing Azami learns about relationships is that they’re surprisingly easy. There’s no new burst of fireworks whenever he meets Kumon’s eyes, and they do the same stuff they always did. But sometimes, Azami smiles, because they’re actually _dating,_ and that makes him elated in a way he’d never admit to _anyone._

Kumon, too, must find this easy; he puts his hand on Azami’s back briefly when they sit down on the park bench together, and it’s warm through Azami’s shirt, and he grins wider, but it’s not _different,_ not really.

The second thing Azami learns about relationships is that they’re _hard._

It’s hard because Azami wants—wants _something_ out of this, but he’s not sure what. He stares at Kumon’s hand as they sit beside each other, and lets their fingers get closer until their pinkies are touching, and it seeps into him like snow through a too-thin jacket, and it’s both too much and not enough at the same time.

A warm shiver runs down Azami’s spine, and he looks away, embarrassed. He shouldn’t even want to hold hands; it’s too soon. When he peeks at Kumon, he’s smiling a bit softer than usual, and in the morning light he looks beautiful, his purple hair surrounded by gold.

He doesn’t move their hands closer, but Azami knows he’s noticed.

It feels almost unreal, like Kumon’s confession felt. The way they were tired after practice, sitting together in the bright lights as Azami tried to lecture Kumon about sleeping soon, and suddenly, like a blur, Kumon’s feelings burst forth enthusiastically, the same way he does everything. Azami hadn’t quite believed it, seeing Kumon’s grin and blush, his own face a burning red to match.

Azami had been so sure that Kumon wouldn’t like him back, but as they stared at each other, Azami had thought that somehow it made sense, that Kumon would move first, and that Azami would be too afraid.

(Azami likes to imagine himself as better than he is, but in reality Kumon has always been better at _starting things._ Azami has always been better at running away and trying to find a way to prove that he’ll be good enough even when chasing his own ideals of who he wants to be. He’s always kept himself like this, even if it meant hiding a part of himself from his father.

Azami has always wanted to be _good enough,_ after all. When he finds himself thinking about that, he locks that part of himself away.)

“Azami?” Kumon asks, “are you okay?” His eyes sparkle, his finger warm where their skin touches. At a time like this, if Azami had been paying attention, Kumon would have been rambling about something, grinning the whole time; Juza said _this,_ or Summer Troupe went out and did _that._

Azami, before the confession, would watch him with a soft, unintentional smile, feeling his heart lift in his chest. He’d tease Kumon, and smile at his reaction, because he liked doing this with Kumon, and it was different from everyone else, because it was an _actual crush._

They’re in a relationship now, and Azami can still do that, obviously. There’s nothing stopping him. He almost wants to lean closer to Kumon, but he doesn’t.

“I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, taking his hand away from Kumon’s and turning his head to the side to keep looking at his boyfriend. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

And isn’t that a hard question? He doesn’t know if he should just admit it, that he doesn’t know what he’s _doing._ Things are fine, but Azami feels like there should be more, like what people expect from relationships. He doesn’t know if he can handle more.

“I’m thinking about you,” he says, tentatively, and can feel himself burning up already. “I—Well.” He stops himself from saying more.

Kumon just laughs. “It’s okay, it’s okay! Do you mean, like, us dating? Because… I’m not going to do anything unless you’re okay with it.” Something about Kumon softens here, his enthusiasm draining into something so sweet it almost seems too good to be true.

Azami mumbles his thanks under his breath.

“I asked Muku for dating advice, honestly,” Kumon says, then, after a small pause, and Azami watches his hand get taken from the bench, and his fingers twist together nervously in his lap. “But I don’t think manga scenes are going to be what you want, so… I…” he squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m just going to tell you that you’re really cute!”

Azami instantly hides his face in his hands. “Don’t say it so easily!” he yells at his boyfriend, even though he can feel his heart beating, maybe even _fluttering._ What has this world come to?

“I’m sorry! But I had to say it! It’s true!”

Azami feels something indescribable, something in his chest that hurts in a good way from just _it’s true._ This kind of honesty is something purely from Kumon, something he wouldn’t lie about, and Azami wants to say it back, but he doesn’t think the words will come out of his throat if he tries.

(“It’s hard to talk honestly about feelings you’ve bottled up for years,” Sakyo once said, before Azami told him to shut up about this, covering his face to hide his blush, because he knew this was about Izumi. It was in the time when Azami would yell at them for PDA, when Sakyo had just started going on secret sappy dates with her.

Azami doesn’t quite relate to the _years_ aspect of it, but Azami has always known that he doesn’t deal well with gentle affection. There’s a distance with his father, and even something of one with Sakyo, that doesn’t fit well with Mankai.

The troupe seems determined to break down Azami’s walls. The affection wells up when Omi gives him still-warm scones at night, or when Taichi asks him about love, or when Banri roped the whole troupe into a scary movie night in an attempt to scare Juza, but they all ended up squished together, sharing popcorn and comforting Taichi together, and there was an undeniable warmth there. It’s hard to feel okay with that warmth, sometimes, but Azami is getting better at it.

He still doesn’t know how much he’ll be able to copy Kumon’s honesty, though. Even though he so badly wants to.)

“Kumon,” he says instead of anything substantial.

There’s a moment of silence, and Azami looks up to see Kumon blushing, head ducked but still smiling. His eyes linger on Azami’s, gold meeting teal and staying there, like he’s unbothered despite everything. He’s amazing, and has changed so much even since they met, something Azami is constantly in awe of. “Was that okay?”

Azami just nods. He feels light and happy. “I…” he sucks in a breath, then lets it out. He just needs to be honest. “I think you’re beautiful.”

He hides his face again. He can hear Kumon laughing, breathy and free, and Azami imagines him shaking and smiling like he did when they went out to watch baseball and that one player did so well that Kumon couldn’t contain his excitement. Kumon had grabbed Azami’s arm, oblivious to Azami’s fast heartbeat.

Kumon’s laughter dies down, and he presses his side against Azami’s. It’s so close that Azami feels his skin tingle, unsure of the close contact. Kumon doesn’t reach for his hand, though, doesn’t pull him away from where he hides. Azami thinks he’s happy with that.

“Can we hold hands on the way home?” Kumon’s breath hits Azami’s hand; Azami squeezes his eyes shut. It’s so _intimate._

“We might be dating, but there’s no need for PDA,” Azami tells Kumon, looking up and pouting.

Kumon grins. “Okay! Just… If you ever want to!” He moves away from Azami, ceasing their contact, which leaves a strange hole in Azami’s heart. It’s still happy, still light, and he doesn’t regret his decision to not hold hands, but…

He wants this closeness, this unfamiliar warmth that their relationship gives him. He wants to lean closer to Kumon. It’s _hard,_ to talk about and voice this feeling, just like Sakyo said. To actually admit that he wants to be close. But… it scares him. That he wants this. That he doesn’t know everything.

He’d been afraid, before they started dating, that Kumon wouldn’t want to wait for Azami to be comfortable enough to do… things. Hand-holding. Kissing. Things. Azami doesn’t like being afraid, and usually he covers up fear with cool anger, but this is one of those things where he can't do that.

He’d just thought he had to wait for it to work out. He takes a deep breath and allows himself to make his own decision.

Wordlessly, Azami leans closer to Kumon. When Kumon pulled back, Azami decided he’d push forward, and Kumon answers with a blinding smile, like them being pressed into each other’s sides is all he ever wanted.

(He hopes that someday, he’ll be able to fold Kumon into a hug and tell him about how his skin used to crawl when given affection, and how Mankai—including Kumon himself—has softened his nerves, has made him less prone to running away. He hopes he can tell Kumon how much he appreciates him. Maybe, at that point, it’ll be love, and Azami will be able to utter the words _“I love you”_ without shying away.

He hopes that both of them will find their relationship easy, and be able to push and pull without stumbling over each other. Azami hopes that Kumon’s smile will be as beautiful as it is today, in this moment.)


End file.
